


Of Blood and Fire

by rustedservos



Category: Jeepers Creepers (2001), Jeepers Creepers 2 (2003), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Mentions of Death, Mentions of other Decepticon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 12:42:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13951785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rustedservos/pseuds/rustedservos
Summary: What if The Truck [ BEATINGU ] was more than a vehicle? What if it was an ancient warrior from an alien planet? What if it met an ancient creature that hated the parasites as much as he did?





	1. Spring

**Author's Note:**

> So Ive had this idea rattling around in my head for a couple days now, ever since I saw the third Jeepers Creepers. Dont know why I didnt write this before. If people want more of this, let me know..?

Every 23rd spring, for 23 days, it gets to eat. 

It feeds off the flesh of its human victims, ripping them apart in some strange ritual to replenish its own powers, to fix injuries and holes in its patchy hide, give it power to hibernate, to survive until the next time it gets to eat. 

All very boring, that is, for the one that gives it rides. Theres nothing to do when the demon is sleeping. Sitting around a dusty, forgotten barn is too slow paced. Terrorizing the idiot parasites around the area? That’s more his speed.

His name was lost to time, just like the demon. Too many deaths of people who knew it, who knew what to do when it stayed in one place too long. Staying in one place was painful; too many parasites die, and too many questions arise, and then it was all the same. Parasites arming themselves, parasites thinking that they can destroy the creature. Not much fun in that.

It was annoying, to The Truck, that the parasites thought that they could hurt him. That their simple carbon and steel ammunition could pierce his thick armor. It would take something more determined to do any damage to him, to crack him open.

Messing with the parasites, when they thought they had him cornered, to where he wouldn’t be able to escape. He always knew that the demon would come back for him. He held secrets, after all. Weapons of the creatures own work, from parasites long ago, a carved history of the terror and the bloodshed. They had a deal, one written long ago after he crashed onto this miserable mudball.

He could just stand up, as it was, but that would be messy. He had five bodies in his cabin, stinking and wrapped up like a present. He knew how well they could squish against his internals, fluids and viscera getting into each seam and joint. He had been picking out the rotting remains of that last one for five years, during one of the creatures slumbers. He still could feel a sliver of bone grinding in his hip when he went to bipedal mode.

His badge had worn away years ago, with the rest of his paint job. It was no use out here, there was no one out here who would care. For all he knew, the war had ended millennia ago. He was still here, living off a solar generator, killing parasites and scanning for ghosts. If Megatron ever called, he would be sure to answer, but for now, it was all quiet. No sign of any other Decepticon…or Autobot, for that matter. If the only fun he was going to get out of this was killing squishies, then he was going to take full advantage of it. 

Once more, the creature drove him towards a broken down barn. Typical. His engine grumbled in irritation as a clawed hand smoothed over his cracked dash. Yes, yes, it knew that he didn’t like barns, but its church, its safe space, had been burnt to the ground. It was going to have to start over, again, just like last time. Until it found a safe space, this barn would have to do.

It helped to know that the metal being that was its truck would watch over its sleeping form. Another soft pat as joints ached and skin tightened, warning it of the impending time. With a stiff gait, it moved towards the cover of the rotting burlap, wanting to burrow into the nest and close its eyes. It waited too long to settle, this time, and bodies would rot out in the back of The Truck. It settled in, pulling its coat over his face as it shriveled into itself, tucking into a tiny ball. The Truck watched, settling onto his wheels as his scans came back with no life signs. 

The back doors opened, truck shifting just enough to spill rotting bodies onto the floor of the barn before plating shifted and limbs grew out of The Truck’s sides. Red optics burned as vents heaved, coughing out dust and little bits of rotten hay. He hated old barns, but it was better than nothing. His rust itched, more of his deteriorated paint job flaking away. He had plenty of nanites and no interest in keeping up appearances. He found the older he was, the sturdier his struts than the pieces of slag that were on the roads now. Paint was a personal choice he didn’t care to make. 

His engine rumbled as he grumbled to himself, setting up his solar generator. He had a few cubes left, from the previous 23 year hibernation, and he wanted a few days to let everything settle. He had a reputation to keep, after all. Scaring the slag out of the parasites was one of his favorite parts of the hibernation, and the creature encouraged it. Keep them afraid. Remind them of why they like to sleep with a light on in the dark. But for now, he would rest, settle in, keep an optic on the perimeter. 

They left the scene awfully hot, recently, and he didn’t want they to track them to the barn. He had been forced to move the creature before, when it was asleep, but it was an unpleasant business. He had learned the hard way that the creature could survive in his subspace, but it was like a void near his spark when he did it. Uncomfortable, but he had dealt with worse. 

The Truck was just about to drift off when the tickle of an incoming comm, one of the first in who knows how long, startled some of his systems back online. A red optic slit open as he growled in irritation; he only got to recharge during the creatures hibernation period. The 23 days he was aware with no rest as the creature drove him around and collected what it needed. For an old mech, that was a lot of wear and tear with no chance to recover. But he recognized the frequency, albeit it hadn’t heard it in millennia. 

::Aries, my child.:: whispered the smoky smooth voice of one he had hoped forgot about him. He had been gone for so long that certainly the Ancients were gone also? His engine rumbled in discontent as he answered, always the faithful servant.

::My Lord.:: He sent back, settling into the floor of the barn, his joints creaking in protest at the slight shift. He was desperate for a medic, if only to check that his field repairs were integrating smoothly.

::I am coming for you.:: the voice hummed, a deep bass that vibrated through the mechs frame. An optic slit open again, glancing at the heap that was his current partner. He refused to leave him, and from the slight delay between answers, he had a long time to come to terms with the fact that soon he would not be alone.

::I await your arrival.:: He sent back, to which there was a burning pulse of fire in his spark, purple swirling deep in his crimson optics before the purple faded into a muted glow, crimson alight in the nearly closed optics. Jagged, fanged denta were flashed as he started to hum the Jeepers Creepers song, finally settling into recharge.


	2. Fire and Ash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His world was fire and ash, and every 23rd spring, for 23 days, he helped it eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I keep getting ideas for this fic, and I feel blessed that I already got a bookmark for this vaugely bizzare thing that I wrote, here. Hope you all like this next chapter.

His world was fire and ash.

The screams of dying mechs shifted slowly into the scream of abused metal as he smashed into the atmosphere. He had left his ship, his planet, his people, behind, sent to this wretch of a planet. It had things oozing, creeping, crawling, growing, all things that he hated. Why, of all places, was he sent here. He missed the steady planes of metal that made up his home planet. 

His world was fire, heat licking at the outside of his plating, everything that he could see tinged with red and orange. He was close to the ground, warnings starting to flare up in his HUD the closer he got. 

He landed harshly, heat igniting the dry grass of the field. Stalk after stalk lit up, spreading, as he carved a furrow in the ground. His plating steamed in the cold of the night as he unfolded, bits of organic matter burning on his shoulders. He stood up amongst the flaming plants, stretching out limbs as crimson optics scanned the scene. 

He could smell copper and iron, mixed together, fouling the air. Movement, in the trees; optics tracked a grey creature that watched him. The creatures coat moved in the breeze, flame flickering higher on his plating and in the plants around him. The heat was slowly dying out as his plating cooled rapidly, pinging loudly in the silence. The creature never moved, either towards or away, and he stayed still as well.

The creature growled, stalking forward with narrowed eyes as the metal titan watched. The smoke that expelled from its vents betrayed it vital signs. An engine growl of his own bit through the silence, to which the creature stilled, tilting its head to the side. It chittered at him, something that the titan recognized, something ancient. A kindered soul, out here, made of organic matter, then? 

Maybe there was a reason as to why he was out here after all. The creature moved forward at his rumble, low tones weaving into the noise. A returning chatter from the creature, and suddenly it was before him, ignoring the immense heat and fire around them. Its clothes started to catch fire as he watched, crystal clear eyes staring into his own purple tinted optics. He rumbled, refusing to kneel to this….thing of flesh. A grin split the creatures face, needle sharp teeth flashing in the darkness before something split from its back, a pair of leathery wings making an appearance. One hefty flap, and the creature was hovering before him, chittering at him.

An agreement. It was asking what he was, and he wanted to know what it was. A soft rumble from the titan as it shifted slightly, joints creaking as his plating finally cooled enough that it wasn’t giving him errors. He hated rough landings.

He scanned the creature, a red light flickering between the two of them, to which the creature screeched in outrage. There was another soft rumble, a deep chuckle that shook the very ground he stood on, as the creature cut forward with one broad swipe of its wings. He held still as it grabbed onto his plating, clinging like a parasite as it chittered at him. 

Electricity sparked across his plating from the touch, his spinal strut stiffening as images flickered across his processor-

_A rustle in the darkness. Screams from the dying. Blood dripping off a silver battleaxe, his battle axe, one he had clawed from the very Earth beneath him. A single grey hand rupturing from a crevasse in the dark, the very earth around him with thick green plants. A scream, his scream, ripping apart the silence. The overwhelming smell of fear, something he almost fed on, as he inhaled and singled out something he needed, something he craved. Parasites scattering before him as he flew on leather wings, spear launching itself from clawed digits, piercing his victim. The rending of flesh, the taste of life, the replacement of old, worn down parts, the feeling of flesh knitting itself back together. The glee in the fear of the parasites before him. Shaping the battleaxe that now hung from slack digits as he shoved another piece of parasite flesh between needle sharp teeth-_

He snapped back to himself with a hum, optics narrowing on the now grinning creature. He rumbled as he turned, optics alight with images he spun for the other-

_The sounds of explosion ripped through the night. He was running, aiming for the weakened mech before him, the taste of others energon splashed across his faceplates, dripping onto his glossa. The screams of the dying as he crushed hands and spark chambers, the flicker of guttering mechs, the loss of color from a dying frame. The promise of his Lord, his Creator, the purple flicker in his spark and optics as he received his Gift. His burning hunger for more energon, more death, more life for his master. The feel of his beloved blades, carved from the heart of a dying star, shaped by his own hands and blessed by his Lord. The purple face carved onto his plating, the empty white eyes almost glowing red as he screamed, purple flames licking along his plating for a moment as he walked across a open plane, mechs behind him writhing in agony before tearing at their plating and launching themselves at each other, war flickering in his footsteps like the flames that tenderly kissed his plating before he flew through the sky, hurtling towards this filthy mudball, tracking, waiting, crashing, burning-_

The images flickered out as he felt something settle onto his shoulder. His helm shifted to see the creature watching him, a hand on its chin before it grinned again, eyes sparkling with mirth as it chittered at him again. He responded, a low croon, the softest vocalization he ever made as the creature patted his face before it pointed towards a building, made of stone and wood, fortified against the weather. The titan walked towards it, ignoring the small purple tinted flames as he walked towards his new residence, the creature chittering to him.

When he folded into a mode better suited to be used, his new partner skittered back, eyes glowing in the treeline before it walked forward. It touched his plating, cementing the partnership as a purple spark flickered into the others flesh, to which the creature roared and ripped it hand away. The engine of the titan was the one to rumbled in mirth, this time, as a door opened and the creature moved towards it, curious. It slid into the cabin, claws gently scraping against the different areas, smoothing over the controls and gauges, looking out into the night as the titan displayed different settings on the glass. Heat blossomed into the shapes of the organic lifeforms in the field, to which the creature chittered to itself, poking at the glass. 

As soon as the creature was firmly in his cabin, he shut the door, to the creatures panic. Laughter rumbled through the speakers as the titan took off, engine screaming into the night as he skidded over rough terrain and smashed into trees, splintering the thick trunks. Weak organic matter. The creature held on, eyes wide, as it watched. A grin slowly grew in delight at the carnage left behind; hunting was about to get so much easier. 

Heat bloomed across the titans windshield as he found a village. With a roar of his powerful engine, he smashed into the buildings, scattering bodies and building materials both as he opened the door and let the creature loose. It flung itself into the air as he watched, merging into the darkness as parasites screamed. He waited until things had mostly calmed down, and the parasites were looking around in confusion as sleep clung to their frames, before he smashed out of his small hiding spot, knocking bodies into the air to spatter ( or get caught by the creature) against the ground. Blood splashed against his plating, mixing with the red/black of his paint job as the creature howled with him. Fear washed over him in waves, the scent thick and cloying, almost clinging to his plating.

Soon, it was over, bodies tied up and wriggling or smashed into bloody pieces around the titan. He transformed, wincing at the squish of organic matter in his internals as the creature landed before him, feasting on whatever morsel it plucked out of its latest victim, as they both headed for home.  
The god of war and the god of death made a pact that night, both ancient beings agreeing on one thing; as much parasitic destruction and death as possible every 23 years for 23 days. It was a symbiotic partnership, as both got to do what they loved, what they were built for. Every 23 years, he watched over the corpse of his demonic partner as he continued to cement the legend of the ghost of the abandoned spaces.

His world was fire and ash, and every 23rd spring, for 23 days, he helped it eat.


End file.
